


The Cat, the Bell, and the Wardrobe (Malfunction)

by Eizabet, KryallaOrchid, Maerynn, midnightstarlightwrites, Totally_lucky



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Pretty sure this is classified as crack, chestoftheyear, not sorry, sorry - Freeform, this is what happens when five authors try to write the same piece of work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-03 03:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11523198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eizabet/pseuds/Eizabet, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KryallaOrchid/pseuds/KryallaOrchid, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maerynn/pseuds/Maerynn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightstarlightwrites/pseuds/midnightstarlightwrites, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totally_lucky/pseuds/Totally_lucky
Summary: Chat Noir never thought his bell would cause such problems. He also never thought his superhero persona would win the title of #chestoftheyear above his civilian persona. But that's what happens when you have a penchant for bad luck, a kwami who won't give you a break, and a zipper on your suit that really shouldn't be there.Birthday present for EdenDaphne





	The Cat, the Bell, and the Wardrobe (Malfunction)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [edelet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/edelet/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY EDEN!
> 
> Since her birthday was in the ML Blackout, we held onto it until it was over, but now we can release it so everyone can read. Don't worry, she got to read it on the day. 
> 
> Welcome to our insanity.

### First Time’s the Chime

#### Totally_lucky

Marinette wished she could take her eyes away but frankly her body refused to cooperate. Instead, crimson blush covered her cheeks, ears and even the nape of her neck as she continued to gawk at Chat Noir’s exposed chest and abs.

“I am so, so sorry,” Marinette finally squeaked a few moments later, coming back to her senses enough to look down. “It was an accident. I swear.”

"Don't worry about it," Chat mumbled under his breath. A light blush of his own peeked out from under his mask as he closed the zipper of his suit back up, successfully hiding away everything that had been exposed just a few moments earlier. The lack of anything but pure muscle and tone of an extremely fit nineteen-year-old boy, to be more accurate.

“I honestly have no idea how it happened,” Marinette continued to nervously babble, her eyes frantically searching for a place to hide. Not only she starred for way too long, like a crazy fan girl, she also actually caught herself thinking that Chat Noir was hot.

"Your pretty lace sleeve got caught up with my bell when I was putting you down," Chat explained, his voice more teasing than anything else. "Did you not notice?"

“Very funny,” Marinette deadpanned, inspecting her ruined sleeve. Of course she had noticed! If only getting caught up in that damn bell was the only thing she did. But no! She had to yank her arm down, trying to get it free in a rush. That cursed bell came along. All the way down. Stopping just below his belly button. Revealing things Marinette, who was too ashamed to admit, had always suspected were there but would rather have preferred not to see.

In her late teens she was still madly in love with Adrien and was finally making some progress with him, getting closer with every passing day. The last thing Marinette needed now was a distraction in the likes of Chat Noir’s perfect chest and a sneak peek at his perfectly toned abs.

Now, however, the image was burned into her mind.

“Still,” she added if only to elevate guilt rising up deep down in her mind. “I feel horrible.”

“Hey.” Chat extended out his baton, getting ready to go back to fighting the akuma he had just saved Marinette from. She really needed to be more careful and _think_ before she acted, he thought, glancing down at her flushed face. She seemed to be stubbornly avoiding his gaze. Chat huffed as just a mere ten minutes ago he had found her running _towards_ danger, _again_. What was this girl thinking? She wasn’t Alya, why was she running to the akuma instead of away? Chat sighed to himself. This reckless, stubborn, gorgeous girl of his...

The moment he saw Marinette, he knew he had to take her away from there. The further from the danger, the better.  With lightning speed, he was by her side, quickly lifted her up, princess-style—as she so rightly deserved—and brought her to the safety of her balcony.

The pretty lace of her sleeves was probably not the best choice of attire for getting rescued by a handsome superhero. Especially not, when said hero had a dangling bell on his chest. It really should’ve come as no surprise to anyone that Marinette’s lacy sleeve ended up caught in Chat Noir’s charm—bell charm that is. Now, the sleeve was ruined, his dignity was bruised and Marinette's face was pricelessly adorable under that pretty shade of red.

“Don't feel bad, Princess,” he tried to reassure her. “I told you, it's no big deal. So you saw a bit of my chest. So what? It’s not like it’s the first male chest you’ve ever seen or will see. Nothing embarrassing in it. Think of it like a trip to a beach. There are lots of naked chests there and no one cares. So no worries. Agreed?”

“Okay. Sure,” Marinette mumbled fidgeting with her fingers behind her back. Her blush was still blooming, eyes looking off to the side, reminding him of the reactions she used to have in front of his civilian self back when they first started school.

Smirking, Chat waved to her with a quick salute. Her flustered face was lovely and so amusing to watch yet as much as he would’ve loved to stay and tease his already embarrassed Princess, the akuma couldn't wait.

He stepped on an edge of the building ready to leap away when a quiet mumbling, almost a whisper caused him to pause on his perch.

“It's not like your chest is as perfect as Adrien’s anyway…”

Marinette’s eyes widened, as she quickly realized that not only had she said that random thought out loud, but that it also had also been heard. She bit her lip immediately to prevent even more humiliating revelations slipping from her stupid, daydreaming mind. The girl knew that wondering too often about how it would feel to run her fingers along Adrien’s perfectly toned chest and having an unfiltered mouth were going to get her in trouble sooner or later. Chat’s equally hot body just triggered her, okay? Nothing she could really control.

Stopping in his tracks, Chat turned back to face Marinette. “Oh, really?” He frowned, yet a sneaky smile seemed to play mischievously on his lips. “What Adrien are we talking about here?” Retracting his baton back to its original size, Chat crossed his arms on his chest.

Knowing that she had dug herself too far to have any hopes of getting out of this, Marinette decided to tell the truth. After all, Adrien was a supermodel and it was hard if not impossible to rival him in the perfect body department. With a shaky, nervous voice, she squeaked, “Agreste.” She could feel Chat’s intense stare on her,  “Adrien Agreste.”

“And have you seen this Adrien’s chest and abs as close as mine in order to compare, Princess?” He leaned closer and almost purred into her ear. When did he get so close, Marinette wondered. And why was it so hot in Paris on a fresh September day?

“Of course I have,” Marinette replied, feeling a second wave of red covering her face. “He is the famous model after all, Chat. Just last month all of the Paris saw him in nothing but a swimming shorts after his father decided to feature him in his newest swimwear collection.”

“Oh, right. Forgot about that,” Chat mumbled absentmindedly, still gazing into her eyes, still much closer than she would've liked him to be. He seemed to bask in her discomfort, that telltale smirk of his returning as he continued, "But I still think that I have just as nice chest as him if not better. I am a superhero after all, Princess.” He winked at her, finally stepping away from her and adding, “Plus, his pictures are probably photoshopped anyway.”

“He is a supermodel!” Marinette challenged right back, her confidence returning with every bit of space Chat was getting further away. When it came to Adrien no one could beat her at defending him. He was her precious, innocent cinnamon roll, after all. “It's his job to look perfect, Chat, so that alone means he has the perfect body. Plus, he is my friend and I strongly doubt any photoshop was used on his pictures since I see him up close pretty often.”

“But not naked,” Chat whispered, suddenly right back by her face again, wiggling his brows at her.

Marinette’s face set ablaze instantly.

“Ah! I didn’t think so,” he grinned. She turned away and mumbled something he couldn’t distinguish. “Plus, my job as a superhero makes me perfectly fit as well, Marinette,” he added, a sly smirk on his lips. “Do you think all that jumping across rooftops and saving damsels in distress comes with no cost? This perfect body, Princess—” he flexed shamelessly “—is my burden to bear and you have to admit it. You just saw it for yourself.”

“Never,” Marinette sassily challenged. “I _will_ admit you have a nice chest but it doesn't even come close to Adrien’s!”

"Do I need to exhibit it one more time?" Chat face was mere millimeters away from hers _again,_ the glow of his eyes and those dancing fires in them mesmerizing her, the stretch of his lips entrancing. What was wrong with him? Had he never heard of a thing called _personal space_? “You might change your mind, Princess,” he purred. “Purr-haps if you had a better look, some time to really inspect it... You can even touch—”

“I think—” Marinette’s finger bopped his nose away mid sentence, “—that you are forgetting something, Chat Noir.”

“And what is that?” He frowned, rubbing the point that Marinette pushed a little bit too fast, too hard and very eager.

“There is a raging akuma out there and Ladybug needs you to help her.” She pointed out to the horizon behind him where another of Hawkmoth’s victims was proving that he was the greatest dancer in all of Paris. “You should be there, Chat, not here, bragging and showing off your assets.”

“Oh. Right,” Chat sighed and pouted. “But—” his signature smirk made a victorious return. “—I bet you’re mentioning this now only because you know your Adrien would lose to my muscular awesomeness once inspected properly.”

The moment that grin split his lips Marinette wanted nothing more than to smack it off, yet that would require time and would undoubtedly be followed by a remark or two from the cat boy. Yet time was something she couldn't afford to waste, as there really was an akuma on a loose and Ladybug needed to take care of it ASAP. Unfortunately for the citizens of Paris, their beloved heroine was currently preoccupied with Chat Noir’s ridiculous attempts to flirt with her civilian self _again_. When had this started to be a habit of his anyway??

“Go away, you mangy cat,” Marinette frowned and crossed her arm on her chest. “I have no intentions of seeing that ‘awesomeness’ ever again. So shoo! Scram! Go save Paris or something!”

“As you wish, my Princess,” Chat replied with a gentle, almost dreamy, smile, that may have betrayed a little more than he was willing to reveal. At least, not yet and not like this. There was still some work to be done before Marinette would know who was behind that mask of his. “I hope—” he added getting ready to jolt away, “—that your loyalty would earn you a personal, close check up of the chest you admire so much pretty soon.”

With that final remark, Chat winked and jumped away.

“You!” Marinette screeched after him.

He didn’t turn around or give her any acknowledgment.

“It isn’t like that!” she shouted louder from the roof.

Chat Noir continued on until, eventually, Marinette couldn’t pinpoint him against the Parisian skyline.

“I wish,” she whispered to herself.

With a sigh, Marinette leaned against the railing, dreamingly gazing into the sky.

“Actually, I do wish...” she thought so no one could hear.

 

 

### For Whom the Cat-Bell Tolls

#### Eizabet

Chat Noir’s boots hit the stone pavement with a soft thud, as he landed gracefully within the courtyard of Notre-Dame Cathedral’s western façade. He stood quickly, and carefully surveyed the area surrounding the historic location.

The Police had already managed to evacuate the tourists and religious patrons of the cathedral and were now monitoring the situation from behind a safety barrier at Pont au Double bridge. Nearby, he noticed the news reporter, Nadja Chamack, speaking to a camera; most likely updating citizens of his arrival. The emergency TV news reports had announced the akuma attacks earlier and he had run across most of Paris to reach Notre-Dame on time. Thankfully, Ladybug managed to contact him through his baton moments before, letting him know that she was also on her way.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” Ladybug called out behind him, causing Chat Noir to spin around eagerly to greet her.

“I would wait an eternity for you, my Lady,” he said and bowed gallantly.

Ladybug smiled at his familiar gesture. They had been partners for many years already and she was fond of his playful behaviour and flirting, regarding them with tender endearment.

“Any sign of the akuma yet?” she asked, glancing up with concern at the cathedral's bell towers. Chat simply shook his head.

That morning, a local bell foundry worker, Emmanuel Carillon, had been fired from his job after he was blamed for a mistake. Of course Hawk Moth would take advantage of the resentful man, and send an akuma to corrupt another person into his sinister scheme. Now the akuma-victim was seeking vengeance by removing every bell from Paris. The Notre-Dame Cathedral was one of the last places left untouched by his rampage.

Chat’s ears twitched and his hearing began to ring as a deep vibration approached. A man wearing metallic armor and a bell-shaped helmet abruptly descended from above them, and landed in a rumbling shockwave near the cathedral.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir, I am the Rebeller!” he declared. “Once I've taken every bell in the city, I will take your Miraculouses too!” He brandished his large handbell weapon towards them as he continued. “Removing the bells of Notre-Dame will complete my retribution, and there is nothing you can do can stop me!”

“I heard you’ve stolen church bells, sleigh bells, store bells, even bicycle bells,” Chat Noir mocked, counting the fingers on his hand, “but I think you forgot the dumbbells.”

“Then I might lose a partner,” Ladybug snickered. Chat pouted at her retort.

Ladybug turned and faced Rebeller defiantly, hands squarely on her hips. “The bells of Notre-Dame have faithfully rung for centuries. We’re not going to let you stop them today!”

Rebeller sneered at her opposition and raised the handbell over his head threateningly. With a forceful swing, the bell sent a powerful soundwave directly at them. Instinctively, Chat Noir lunged for his partner to protect her from the blast. Catching Ladybug around the waist, they rolled to the side, sliding into defensive stances as the ground behind them became a small crater.

"That was un-a-peal-ing!” Chat admonished Rebeller’s sudden attack. “We need to stop Tinker Bell over there, before he destroys everything!”

“Right,” Ladybug agreed, “he’ll be aiming for the bell towers. "We've got half an hour before the next toll" She removed her yo-yo from her hip and spun it in anticipation. “This way!” Ladybug instructed, as she made a running leap to hide behind the bronze statue of Charlemagne that was a few meters away. Chat pulled his staff out as well and ran along with her. From the other side of the statue, Rebeller once again swung his handbell. This time, when the soundwave hit the aged bronze, it reverberated off instead.

“You won’t get away, Ladybug!” Rebeller spat in fury. He swung the bell at the ground below his feet as he jumped, creating a shockwave which propelled him high into the air towards the statue. The moment he leapt, Ladybug quickly threw her yo-yo around one of the gargoyles of the cathedral, securing it for their escape.

“Now’s our chance, Chat Noir!” she cried, grabbing him by the arm and slingshotting them from behind the statue to the cathedral’s round, stained glass rose window in the center of the façade. By time Rebeller landed on the ground, they were already out of reach again.

“Sounds like that guy’s a little out-of-tune with reality,” Chat Noir remarked as Rebeller shot several more soundwaves at them. They avoided the blasts again, running along the balustrade above the The King’s Gallery.

“Maybe so,” Ladybug considered, “but we still need to get to the bells before he does.”

As another soundwave was launched at them, Chat Noir hoisted himself and Ladybug with his staff to the parapet of the Chimera Gallery nearest the South Tower.

Furious that they continued to elude his attacks, Rebeller used his soundwave to create another sonic jump. This time he landed on the same parapet as them between the bell towers, impeding any further movement.

“Total victory will be mine!” Rebeller crowed at his presumed advantage of their positions.

“Well, we think you’re a total ding-a-ling!” Chat Noir crossed his arms. “And even if you do get the Notre-Dame bells,” he taunted,” there’s still one bell you’ll be missing.”

Ladybug was about to question him, when she realized the diversion that Chat Noir was creating. Silently she tiptoed away from Rebeller, and closer to the bell tower wall.

“What ‘bell’ are you talking about?” demanded Rebeller.

Chat grinned cheekily while he raised his index finger and tapped his own bell that sat against his neck, eliciting a small ping.

“No!” Rebeller shouted, “I will take your bell too, along with your Miraculous!”

As Rebeller charged toward Chat Noir, Ladybug made the final leap inside the South Tower through a hole from one of Rebeller’s blasts. She hurriedly tossed her yo-yo into the air, calling out for her Lucky Charm. What landed in her hands was a large, red and black, spotted mallet.

“I’m doing de-construction now?” she wondered.

Chat Noir burst into the tower a moment later, parrying each of Rebeller’s handbell strikes with his own staff. The two men scuffled around the platform under the bells, until Chat Noir was right below the largest one.

“Chat Noir!” Ladybug shouted while pointing up at the wooden yoke that held the top of the bell in place. He nodded to her in understanding.

“Cataclysm!” he called out to his Miraculous’ power of destruction. Black swirling energy of magic electrified in his palm. He jumped for the bell, gripping the rim with his left hand and reached for the yoke, intending to destroy it. Rebeller leaped for him before Chat Noir could reach it though, firmly grabbing Chat Noir by the bell.

In doing so, the man’s weight pulled the otherwise hidden zipper tab, securely attached to the bell, rapidly downward. Chat Noir’s eyes grew wide and shocked as the front of his suit opened, his bare chest became exposed and the Rebeller dangled in a precarious… position.

“I will have your bell!” Rebeller gasped while straining to maintain his grip.

“Everyone’s going to get a lot more than my bell if you don’t let go!” Chat Noir panicked in embarrassment. He kicked out frantically with his legs to dislodge the other man, but the Rebeller held fast.

Ladybug stared in fascination at the amazingly muscular abdomen in front of her, mentally unable to focus on using her mallet, to assist him. It wasn’t until she realized Rebeller was trying to aim his weapon into Chat Noir’s chest, that she broke out of her appreciative reverie.

She wrapped her yo-yo around one of the wooden support beams inside the tower, and then positioned herself strategically above the largest bell. As Chat Noir swung the Rebeller’s head inside the bell’s opening with his legs, Ladybug forcefully struck the side with her mallet.

The deafening clang caused by the akuma to fall to the platform dazed, releasing both the handbell, and Chat Noir’s bell.

Despite his own ears ringing, Chat Noir reached up and touched the wooden yoke with his still-waiting cataclysm, decaying it instantly. The bell dropped on top of Rebeller, effectively caging him in.

“I guess we were literally saved by the bell,” Chat chuckled, after Ladybug released the akuma from the handbell and purified it with her yo-yo.

Before she returned the cathedral, and everything back to its previous state with her Miraculous Ladybugs, she sauntered over to Chat.

Reaching out, Ladybug pulled at the forgotten bell, zipping his suit back into place, and then still grasping his bell, leaned close.

She grinned. "Too bad you didn't jingle all the way."

 

### Snap Chat

#### Maerynn

Chat Noir was currently an interesting shade of red.

A shade that, up until that day, was still unknown to the human species.

In the seat in front of him, Alya gasped loudly, stammering a half-hearted apology, the shame she put in her words not quite reaching her eyes.

The hero face-palmed, his cheeks burning hot, and groaned miserably, “Not _again._ ”

It had started the day before, when Alya had chased Chat Noir and Ladybug down the street after a really nasty akuma fight where his lady had had to use her lucky charm early in the encounter. She was on a timer and had less than a minute before turning back in a pumpkin (granted, the prettiest pumpkin of all France, if not the world, but still not exactly the best plan when you’re trying to keep a secret identity).

Taking her panicked expression in, Chat Noir had instantly picked up on her predicament and had urged her away, insisting that he’d hold the young and stubborn reporter back. (All while cursing Nino for not being able of keeping his suicidal girlfriend away from danger.)

Which Alya hadn’t appreciated.

At all.

She had been on the cusp of snapping a close-up picture of the superheroic duo, only to have it taken away from her by a mangy cat that had decided to stop her to talk about the _weather_ , no less, conveniently letting Ladybug slip away from her sight.

“Chat!” she had whined, frustrated, “I wanted a picture of **_both_ ** of you! The last one is weeks old already! Why did you let her go?”

Chat Noir had huffed, a playful smile grazing his lips, “Oops?”

A flash of pink had caught the corner of his eye at that precise second, and he had reacted on instinct, wanting more than anything to avoid Alya seeing it too. So he had surged forward, wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulders and had walked her away, as far as he could from the faceless girl behind the polka-dot mask.

“You know what?” he had said, trying to sound cool and relaxed instead of the tensed mess he truly was from the thought that in an alleyway not even twenty feet from him stood his partner, entirely relying on him to protect her identity. From Alya, _and_ from himself. “To make amends, how about an exclusive interview with yours truly? Not a rushed thing in the aftermaths of an akuma, a real interview, where we take the time to sit down and chat.”

If Alya had found the change of heart sudden, she didn’t mention it.

That’s how Chat Noir found himself sitting on a park bench at the Trocadero beside Alya the next day, silently cursing his lack of foresight. He was painfully aware of the camera recording every single of his moves and of the _hungry_ smirk on his friend’s face.

Alya Césaire wanted a scoop, and it was crystal clear that she’d stop at nothing to get one.

Her first round of questions was pretty tame, considering who was asking. Things about the magic, which he politely refused to answer for obvious safety reasons, things about his civilian life, which he eluded like he could, things about his superheroic life, which he was more than eager to answer given this was all public knowledge.

He should have known Alya was trying to lull him into a false sense of comfort.

Because when he started to relax and stopped second guessing every single of her words, she dropped _the_ bomb on him, “And how does it feel to be Paris’s favorite woman’s boyfriend?”

His eyes widened, his throat went dry and his heart skipped a beat.

She hadn’t dared…?

The way she looked at him expectantly told him that yes, she had dared. The question was now out in the open, and it was up to him to publicly humiliate himself by setting the record straight and admit his loudly proclaimed love was unrequited…

Or provoke Ladybug’s wrath by deciding to roll with it.

Chat Noir was many things. He was reckless, goofy, acted before thinking much too many times for his own well-being.

But suicidal he was not.

So he painfully gulped, his signature smirk long gone, “I—um, this is to say, my Lady and I are close friends and partners, but that’s about it.”

“Oh?” Alya said, her curiosity piqued, “and why is that? All of Paris thought you guys were a thing!”

“We’re not,” he answered a little bit harshly, and Alya seemed to get the memo.

Squirming uncomfortably beside him, her interview obviously not taking the path she would’ve like. She scrapped a few sheets of paper on her questions list before asking, somewhat regaining her confidence and composure, “We already know that the mask is glued to your skin, thanks to Lady Wifi, but what about the rest of your suit? For instance, what happens if I tug on this?”

Looking back, the curious expression on Alya’s face along with the way her fingers reached for his bell should’ve warned him about what was going to happen next.

But Chat Noir was still sour about the comments about his relationship with Ladybug and didn’t see Alya’s fingers wrapping themselves snuggly around the golden ornament until it was too late.

She pulled, eyes widening when the zipper effectively went down, fully functional.

Startled, Chat Noir bolted backwards on the bench, trying to put distance between himself and the offending hand.

Alya, however, did not let go of the bell in time.

The zipper went all the way down as a result, Chat Noir letting out a loud yelp as his entire chest down to his navel, ended up exposed for all Paris to see.

Hence why the fiery blush that was currently burning his face up, while Alya ogled him with not that much subtlety.

Trying to suppress the embarrassment eating him alive, the hero hastily pulled the bell back up, hoping to maintain a minimum of composure and knowing fairly well that his partner would tease him endlessly for that mishap.

He might’ve succeeded, if Alya hadn’t blurted out disbelievingly at that precise second, “Wait, was that an _eight-pack_?”

 

### Pawdrobe Malfunction

#### Midnightstarlightwrites

**_Ladyblog update!_ **

_2017-01-30 19:54_

_‘Hey Ladybloggers! This is Alya coming at you with the latest superhero scoop and boy what a scoop it is! Caught on camera by yours truly, and for your viewing pleasure- here’s some spectacular footage for you fangirls and guys! Don’t click away, trust me, you do not wanna miss this! Four words: Chest. Of. The. Year.’_

Nino slammed his phone screen-down on the desk, his face burning.

Why was the looking at the footage?! WHY?! He knew what had happened! He was there! In fact, he was the reason why the comments section of the Ladyblog was on fire and why the top trending hashtag on twitter was _#chestoftheyear_ … again!

He hadn’t meant to do it. It was an accident, a mistake. In the middle of trying to get Alya, his beautiful but single-minded girlfriend, out of harm’s way of the latest weekly akuma, he himself had gotten into its firing line. If it had been that puppy-akuma from a few weeks ago, he wouldn’t have minded so much. But this was some sort of horror-themed akuma, and its attack had been transforming citizens of Paris into mindless zombies.

Nino hadn’t thought passing time as a real-life zombie was particularly thrilling, for himself or Alya. But there wasn’t enough time to react. So, after he’d pushed Alya out of the way, he’d braced himself, closing his eyes, his arms flying up to cover his face as if that might protect him from the inevitable.

The inevitable, it turned out, was not so inevitable after all. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in Chat Noir’s hold. The superhero had lifted him out of the way of the attack and carried him to the police line, where Alya was waiting, her eyes shining with something Nino hadn’t recognised. Her phone, however, was lodged firmly in her hand and pointing directly at Chat and him.

It had all happened so fast that it was now a blur. Chat Noir had made some kind of boastful quip, Alya had thanked him, Nino was sure he’d done the same as he wiggled out of Chat’s hold.

That’s when the nightmare occurred.

The wire of Nino’s headphones had done what headphone wires do best, and tangled themselves in the bell around Chat’s neck. The bell which, due to recent events, most people had realised was attached to a zipper. They’d both realised too late.

Nino hopped onto the ground, taking his headphones, and Chat’s zipper down with him. The crowd had squealed, had gasped, and Chat looked down with wide eyes. Nino, horrified, had tried tugging his headphones away but that had made the problem worse. The zipper pulled down further, and Chat’s chest was once again exposed.

 _Exposed_. His chest was in full view for anyone on the Ladyblog, across twitter, and would probably be on the gossip pages of every newspaper low enough to print it in the morning. All of this, because of Nino. Nino and his damn headphones.

He wanted to _die_.

As if his day couldn’t possibly get stranger, Nino slunk to his bed, crossing the space of his tiny attic bedroom, and spinning around to fall backwards against the mattress with a loud flop…

And promptly received the shock of his life when a face appeared in the skylight above him.

He leapt upwards, eyes bulging as they came into contact with the very superhero whose wardrobe he managed to make malfunction only a few hours earlier.

Nino hadn’t stuck around after the incident, had only heard briefly from Alya (after her adrenaline-fuelled kisses, god he loved how whirlwind she could be) that the heroes had saved the day. That hadn’t ever worried him though. Ladybug and Chat Noir would always stop Hawkmoth. It was a given.

What _wasn’t_ a given was the fact that Chat Noir would show up to his house, appear on his roof with an awkward smile and a gesture for Nino to open his skylight. That wasn’t a given at all. In fact, that was so far past _“happens every day_ ” territory that it was squarely rooted in the _“what the actual living FUCK?!”_ zone.

Nino yelled as much, even as he leant upwards and opened his skylight, watching as Chat swung in and landed on the floor next to his bed.

They were silent for a while and, amidst the shock of it, all Nino could think was that ‘ _Superhero on a Skylight’_ would make for a great song title.

Before his brain could start putting the notes together, Chat turned to him with a sheepish grin. “So. Today happened!”

Nino’s eyebrows raised and he waved his hands. “Look man, I just wanted to say sorry about that. If you wanted to kick my ass though at least give me a warning so I can make a will or whatever.”

“What? No! I… err…” Chat shuffled from foot to foot, “No I just wanted to make sure you were ok, you looked _pur-retty_ embarrassed out there.”

“I wasn’t embarrassed for myself!” Nino blinked, wanting to pinch himself because honestly? This was way too surreal for his liking. “I felt bad about, ya-know, tugging your zipper down and everything. It must suck, to have your chest displayed for the whole world to see. I don’t even like getting changed in locker rooms sometimes and… yeah I guess it’s my fault about that so, I’m sorry.”

Chat’s head tilted as he regarded Nino, a soft expression on his face and a small smile that was so different from the confident smirk he was used to seeing splashed across news sites and the Ladyblog. It was unfairly attractive, but then Nino had always been a sucker for the confident type who was soft and sweet on the down low.

“Don’t worry about it,” Chat replied with a carefree shrug. “I’m used to by now, have been for a long time.”

“A long time?” Nino frowned. What could he mean by that? The first chest exposure incident hadn’t taken place that long ago. Only a couple of months at most.

The cogs started to tick in Nino’s brain, threads beginning to weave together where they had previously laid unused. Chat’s expression fell, and he scrambled to offer a hasty explanation, but it was too late…

“You knew where I live. You’re used to your chest being on display… you’re blonde and your sense of humour sucks.”

“Hey!” Chat protested. “Puns are-”

“Love, puns are life?!” Nino interrupted with a strangled noise, finishing the sentence he’d heard over and over again, from the mouth of his meme-ing best friend. “Sweet zombie _balls_ , ADRIEN?!”

“Who’s Adrien? Never heard of him!” Chat replied with a nervous giggle and a twitch. The same nervous giggle he’d heard way too many times to count. He knew that giggle like the back of his hand. That was Adrien’s _‘I’ve messed up and I don’t want to admit it_ ’ giggle. The fact that it was coming out of the mouth of a superhero? That was the weirdest thing of all.

Nino crossed his arms against his chest. “Adrien. _Dude_.”

Chat sighed, hanging his head in resignation and looking weirdly like a kicked puppy. A green light flooded the room and there was his best friend, looking half-panicked and half-amused, a weird black cat-like thing hovered by his shoulder, cackling, and Nino gaped at the sight.

“Please don’t tell Alya,” Adrien begged.

Nino nodded silently. Mainly because he didn’t think he’d ever be able to speak again.

 

### Fashion Furr Pas

#### KryallaOrchid

Sitting crossed-legged in the middle of his bed, Adrien pressed the pads of his fingers together and steepled his hands. In an eternally patient voice, he said, “Explain to me why the suit has a bell. And a zipper. A fully-functional zipper that, on numerous occasions, has somehow, inexplicably mind you, ended up around my navel at the most inopportune time.”

With his back to Adrien, Plagg curled into a ball and tried to look like he was asleep. “You know, one of the best thing to come from your generation is the phrase ‘because reasons’. I’m gonna employ that.”

Fighting the scowl, Adrien said, “You’re enjoying this.”

Plagg’s tail flicked, showing he was slightly irritated at present. “Yup.”

“Why are you trying to destroy me?”

“You enjoy it,” Plagg replied. “Marinette certainly stroked your ego nicely after she got caught on the bell.”

Adrien waved his hands dismissively. “That’s beside the point. Alya didn’t need to see that and neither did Nino!”

“Oh, _please_ ,” Plagg scoffed. “You _loved_ being chosen as ‘Chest of the year’ on the Ladyblog. And you’ve been bare-chested loads of times. Need I remind you of the swimsuit modeling you did recently? Again, Marinette stroked your—”

Adrien huffed. “Again, beside the point! _Why_ does the zipper work?”

Plagg grinned. “Aesthetics.”

With a groan, Adrien covered his face with his hands. “I’m doomed.”

“Yup. Can I have my cheese now?”

“Can we lose the zipper?”

“Nope,” Plagg said, popping the ‘p’.

There had to be something he could do. “Can we lose the bell?”

Plagg snorted. “Nope. Ladybug _likes_ the bell.”

Adrien huffed again, but couldn’t deny that. By the sheer number of times Ladybug had flicked the bell with a flirty glint in her eyes, it was obvious that she loved the bell. “Can the bell not be attached to the zipper?”

“Can’t change the suit, kid,” Plagg said with a shrug and curled up tighter into a ball until his tail covered his nose. “Get used to it.”

Adrien narrowed his eyes. “Not even for a year’s supply of Camembert?”

Plagg sat up and twisted to face Adrien and Adrien could’ve sworn there were hearts in his eyes. “Really? A year’s supply?”

“If,” Adrien said, determined to get his way, “you change the suit.”

“That’s it?” Plagg blurted and his eyes grew even larger. He crawled across the bed toward Adrien like a starving kwami who’d seen a fountain of fondue. “That’s all?”

A sense of triumph filled him. “Yup.”

Plagg floated up in the air and offered Adrien his paw and Adrien tried to ignore the sudden shit-eating grin Plagg wore. “You got a deal.”

* * *

Honestly, when was he ever going to learn?

The zipper wasn’t attached to the ball anymore. The zipper was completely gone. In its place was absolutely nothing. A bare chest revealed by a V-shaped slit right down to his navel and a bell.

Great. Just great.

The de-transformation was the quickest one he’d ever done. “Put it back,” he demanded the second Plagg was out of the ring.

Plagg’s eyes were too big and wide to be considered even remotely innocent. “Put what back?”

Stern, Adrien drew on Chloe’s scolding-adult face abilities to glare at Plagg. “The zipper. Put it back.”

“No can do,” Plagg said with a sharp shake of the head and completely undaunted by Adrien’s face. “I spent a long time doing what you asked, I can’t just change the suit willy-nilly. It takes time and concentration.” A smug smirk spread across his little face and his pesky voice turned sing-song. “You should’ve been more specific.”

“Of all the things to be literal over!” Adrien complained, throwing up his hands in disgust.

“Sorry, kid. Deal with it.”

“Plagg! I can’t go out there like looking like a walking wardrobe malfunction!”

“Ladybug needs your help,” Plagg reminded him with a shrug. “But, it’s no skin off my nose if we sit this one out. I could use a break. And some cheese. From my year’s supply of cheese you so kindly gifted to me.”

Normally, Adrien wouldn’t have minded. Not really. He was a model. He was used to people drooling or lusting over him, especially now he was nineteen. He even had his own fan club.

As Adrien. As Chat Noir, the only one he wanted to look at him with lustful intentions was Ladybug (and maybe if he was honest with himself, Marinette). The skin-tight suit hadn’t done him any favours, but a skin-tight suit with a revealing slit?

He was doomed. Completely doomed.

“Maybe I can find some superglue,” he muttered as he ran his hand through his hair.

Outraged, Plagg shot up in the air and spat, “You absolutely will not!”

“I will!” Adrien threatened and shook his index finger at Plagg. “I will glue it shut.”

Plagg glowered. “And here I thought I was doing you a favour.”

With narrowed eyes and knowing he was going to regret this, Adrien asked, “How did you come to that conclusion?”

Plagg’s smirk was back. “You have a nice body, for a human. One of the best kittens in terms of appearance I’ve had. Expose a bit more and a certain little bug will fall over herself to get a peek. Or haven’t you noticed that every time the zipper comes down, she’s been in a position to see?”

Remembering Marinette, and Alya, Adrien said, “Not every time.”

Plagg’s expression was entirely too smug. “Uh-huh.”

“What about Alya?”

“Well, there’s video evidence. I bet Ladybug got her hands on it.”

He waved his hands. “Wait. Wait. Are you deliberately letting the zipper fall to hook me up with Ladybug?”

“Sick of you moaning about her and never doing anything,” Plagg said. “Get with the program and get the girl and accept that, maybe, she _likes_ your chest.”

The urge to pout was almost too strong. As it was, Adrien huffed and crossed his arms on his chest. “Or maybe you just like messing with me.”

Plagg didn’t seem to care in the slightest as he bobbed up and down in the air. “Are we going to help or can I go back to sleep?”

With a frustrated growl, Adrien snarled, “Claws out.”

Chat Noir completely hadn’t expected Ladybug to forget a simple thing like ‘how to yo-yo’ when she clapped eyes on him, and nearly plummet to her untimely death.

Mind you, rescuing her and having her ‘accidentally’ snuggle against his mostly bare chest was strangely gratifying. Her bare cheek _touched_ his bare chest. It might have even _nuzzled_. There were fingers!

At least, that’s what he chose to believe. He was hopelessly in love with her after all.

Maybe Plagg _did_ have the right idea?

 

 

### Exposed by the Bell

##### ALL TOGETHER NOW!

Sunset, springtime among the rooftops of Paris. That seemed like a perfect time to compare, right?

Adrien’s picture smouldered in Chat Noir’s hand and he gulped as he stared at Ladybug’s back. A part of him wondered if this was too much, but he had to know. The question had been burning in his mind ever since Marinette’s tease. Who did Ladybug think had the better chest, him or Adrien? Even if they were the same chest, Ladybug’s preference would give him so much information about her preferences.

Besides, there was no way this particular picture of Adrien in a swimsuit could ever be associated with Chat Noir. Not when it was the unreleased, un-edited version, never before seen to the public and didn’t even show his face.  

All he had to do was show her the picture and his own chest and ask who was better. Simple, which one right?

Wrong.

Later that evening, during one of their regular rooftop patrols, Ladybug took one look at the picture, flicked a glance at Chat’s bare and partially exposed chest, rolled her eyes dramatically and snapped, “I already told you, Chat. _Nothing_ can compare to Adrien's chest.”

He stared at her, dumbfounded. Gesturing the photo, he asked, “How did you know this was Adrien’s?”

Her reaction was… slow to say the least.

First came the widening of the eyes, then the rapid opening and closing of her mouth (much like a fish, but Chat thought that was too ugly a comparison for his beautiful lady), and finally a nervous chuckle.

“I, err,” she giggled again, stumbling over her words as her arms jerked awkwardly. “I guess I’ve just… err… I’ve seen it a lot?”

Chat’s eyebrows rose. A sly grin spread across his face, covering up the delightful smile he truly wanted to show. Even as his heart picked up its pace, and his stomach fluttered, he attempted to hide his glee behind his usual mask. “My lady,” he teased. “Are you suggesting that you like Adrien Agreste so much, you know his chest off by heart?”

In a flash his wonderful, brave, extraordinary Lady, turned into an awkward, shy, finger-tapping bumble. “Maybe… but… maybe not… I’m not- I won’t admit to anything. I mean, he is everywhere!” She waved her hand behind him. “See? Look. There’s a billboard right over there.”

He glanced over his shoulder and smirked. “So there is.”

She straightened, lifting her chin and attempted to regain some sort of control over the blush dusting her cheeks. “Anyway, why do you even have that?”

“Never you mind,” Chat Noir purred and decided she was fun to tease. “I’m more interested in the fact you seem to have _compared_ our chests before.”

“Well, there is nothing too shocking or extraordinary in that,” she mumbled, hiding her eyes away. “Yours was on a full display on Ladyblog the other day and Adrien’s is famous all over the France as we had established already. Of course I compared. Most of Paris probably did so it’s not like I am the only one, anyway.”

“And you stand firmly on Adrien’s being the best?” Chat cocked his head to a side. “Funny, Marinette thought so too…”

Ladybug’s eyes widened and her breath hitched.

“In fact… she said almost exactly the same…” Chat Noir’s head tilted to the other side as he regarded her. Twin pigtails, they were about the same height and shared those tiny freckles dotting her nose. The same bluebell eyes. Even their laugh and-  “Marinette?”

The high pitch squeak she gave in response all but sealed her fate.

“It...it is you, isn’t it?” he gasped, his mind screeching to a halt because really? REALLY? All this time, she’d been sitting right behind him? All this time, and he’d never noticed?! “Marinette? It’s-”

“Please don’t freak out!” she cried, stepping forward and waving her arms, her eyes shining all too brightly for his liking. She looked, for some reason, on the verge of tears. “I mean, yes, o-ok you figured me out, there’s no sense trying to lie you know how I hate liars-” she was starting to turn an odd shade of purple- “but please don’t freak out! I don’t want anything to change. Nothing should change between us, right?”

“My Lady,” he choked. “E-everything is going to change.”

The silence was deafening. For a few moments Ladybug, Marinette, search his eyes diligently for any signs that he was joking. Why? Why everything, anything had to change? She was always Marinette under that mask. He never had a problem working with her before. Why this had to change now than he knew? Failing in her quest, Ladybug sighed and turned to a side. Her eyes focused on something in distance, a thin layer of moisture slowly creeping over them. The corner of her lips quivered as she struggled to understand, fought to find the words in her mind that would make him reconsider, that would make their partnership solid and easy again. That’s why Tikki insisted on keeping their identities secret. Marinette should’ve been more careful, she thought wrapping her arms around herself.

Seeing Ladybug, slowly falling apart, Chat Noir searched for something to say. Something. _Anything_ . A pun, a quip, a poignant quotation. Something to relieve that wretched look of despair on his lady’s face. And all that came out was a stupid, “So, you still don’t recognise this _ab_ -solutely f- _ab_ -ulous chest?”

Ladybug’s face fell into a glare immediately. “Now?” she asked. “You pun, now?”

“Why not? Now is the perfect time to pun,” Chat grinned sheepishly, and scratched the back of his head. “Tension release or something like that?”

Ladybug sighed and covered her face with a hand. “That is one of the reasons I like Adrien, Chat. At least he doesn’t pun at the most inappropriate of the times,” she lamented.

He pounced on that. “Are you sure about that, my Lady? Maybe he just hasn’t had the purr-fect opportunity to display his talent?”

Arms crossed on her chest again, she glared. “As someone who knows Adrien in real life I can assure you, Chat, he doesn't pun. In fact, I am pretty sure he would roll his eyes at your ridiculousness along with me.”

Chat Noir snorted. Glancing at the photo of himself, he extended it to Ladybug. After she took it, he rearranged the v-slit in his suit to reveal more of his chest and then posed in exactly the same way. “So, back to the important questions. Are you telling me you still don’t see the similarities?”

Ladybug rolled her eyes, tugging his bell back up to his collar again with a sigh. “Please don’t start this again. I never thought I’d say this, Kitty, but I’ve kinda had enough of staring at hot chests for the time being.”

Chat Noir’s jaw dropped. This time, he was unable to hide the smile lighting up his face. On the contrary, he wouldn’t have been able to hide it if it were a matter of life and death. “You think my chest is hot.”

“NO!” Ladybug shrieked, ducking her head and scrambling to the other side of the rooftop.

He followed, gleeful. “Yes you do! You said hot! Hot chests! You said it, LB! You think I’m hoooot!”

She glowered at him, crossing her arms on her chest as she huffed. “I said no such thing!”

“You did!”

“NOPE!” Her hand slashed the air as though she could cut the words away and have them never exist. But he knew. He knew.

“Uh-huuuuh! You think I’m _hooooot_ ,” he sang.  

“Stop.”

He danced in a circle, swishing his hips and raising his arms. “You think I’m gooooooorgeous, you want to _kiiiiisss_ me, you want to-”

“I will punch your pretty-pretty face,” Ladybug warned.

He smirked and turned toward her. “And now you think my face is pretty.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes, a smile tugging the corner of her lips. “You’ve always known you look good,” she finally admitted. “You don’t need me to stroke your ego.” She lifted Adrien’s picture and frowned at it. “Where did you get this, anyway? It’s not the version in the magazine.”

Chat’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned closer and whispered, “Well, the model always gets to keep the shots he likes.”

Ladybug frowned at him. Then her eyes blew wide. “No.”

Chat Noir waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Noooo,” she said again, dragging out the word as long as she could. Her pitch rose the longer she held the note until the sound was just shy of a shriek. Ladybug clasped her cheeks with both hands, her mouth open in an ‘o’ as she stared at him and her cry petered out.

Concerned, Chat took a step toward her. “You okay?”

She shook her head, still staring. “Adrien?”

“Hi,” he said, smiling at her. “ _Ab_ -solutely _purr_ -leased to meet you.”

The dazzled look on her face disappeared and she looked set to punch him. “You didn’t.”

“I so did,” he said, and laughed at the disgruntled look on her face. “In fact, Adrien did, despite your best beliefs in him.” Puffing out his chest in invitation, he smirked, “So, still no?”

“I hate you,” Ladybug pouted playfully and turned around, grabbing her yo-yo. Run. Run away, pounded in her head. She needed to think this over, to come to terms with it, to make sense of this new information. She raised her hand and in a moment, she would’ve been on the other roof if not for a quiet voice that stopped her in her place.

“I don’t,” Chat said. “Quite the opposite, my Lady. I very much love you.”

“You what?” Ladybug whispered, frozen in her tracks, shocked to her core. Adrien was a close friend yet he never displayed any special affection towards her. Not that she noticed at least. Chat was a shameless flirt who couldn't be serious in his endeavours. I mean, she couldn’t say for others but he flirted with Marinette on a regular basis and he didn't know it was the same person. What did he mean he loved her?

Slowly Chat walked closer and stood right in front of the stunned girl. “You heard me right, my Lady. I’ve wanted to tell you this for a long time actually. My first failed attempt was on that Valentine’s Day when the Dark Cupid appeared a few years back and ever since then I tried a couple more times but as you can see, I wasn't quite successful. But yes, you heard correctly—” he gently, carefully, as if searching for permission, took her hand in his, “— I  love you, my Lady.”     

Her fingers went slack around her yoyo and her jaw fell somewhere on the floor. Chat Noir - no, scratch that - _Adrien_ just confessed his undying love to her. She had dreamed about that moment so many times before that now it had finally happened, it felt surreal. Granted, in her fantasies, they both were on the other side of the mask, but still, she was elated.

Ok, admittedly, elated was just one of the things she was feeling at that moment in time. If she were to be honest with herself, deep down she knew this would happen. She knew one day they’d reveal their identities. There’d been too many close calls, and after Hawkmoth was defeated there probably wouldn’t be any real risk. One day, she’d thought, one day in the future it would happen.

But the future was now. The future had just been thrust, quite vividly, into the present and she was left swimming in a sea of confusion, of happiness, of love, of downright shock and a myriad of other emotions. It was messy, to say the least.

But… he loved her. No matter what came of this. He loved her.

And she loved him, this new boy in front of her. This young man, who wasn’t quite Chat Noir, nor Adrien Agreste, but somehow a wonderful combination of both. She loved him.

He shifted uncomfortably in front of her, and she realized she had yet to voice any form of answer to him. That was quite a sight in itself. Chat Noir, her obnoxious, pun-loving, giant dork of a partner squirming impatiently under her gaze, bashfully looking back at her, waiting eagerly for her reaction.

She wanted so desperately to find the right words, to convey the exact extent of her affections toward him now that her two favorites boys turned out to be one and only amazing young man. When she failed to come up with a heartfelt speech like the one she felt he deserved, she did the next best thing she could think of.

She kissed him. Two quick steps, before she could really think about the complications her actions were going to bring to their relationship, and she was sure there was going to be many, a grab of that damn bell to pull his head down, and her lips found his.

Chat Noir - _ADRIEN_ \- stiffened at first under her touch, and for a split second, Ladybug worried that maybe, she had misread the situation (still, when someone tells you that he loves you, that’s pretty much self-explanatory, isn’t it?). She pulled back, a long string of apologies ready, but that second had been all that he needed to catch up. He chased her, wrapping his arms around her waist before she ventured too far from him and he crashed his lips back on hers, kissing her with a fire and a passion that threatened to melt her on the spot.

She moaned against his eager mouth, her hands finding their way to bury in his hair and lock them in place. His hands on her hips slipped to splay at the small of her back and lift her up to crush her against him.

Just like that, her worries dissipated. They’d probably return once the dust had settled, and they’d surely talk them through, but for now she was content. Content to revel in the feelings of his warm hands splayed against her suit and his soft whispers, full of adoration for her and only her, and the way his lips felt against hers. They were a promise, a promise that things could work out, a promise that they

had each other, a promise that her love was returned just as eagerly- that’d he’d been waiting for her as much as she’d been waiting for him.

More thrilling than all of that though, was the slight growl he gave when she dared to tug at his hair. _That_ was a promise that they’d make up for lost time, and make up for it well. It sent a shiver straight through her.

“You know,” he rasped against her lips, “we could drop the transformations now.”

“What for?” she grinned, dizzy and breathless, before going back for another taste of his lips.

He chuckled, forcing himself away from her long enough to speak a full sentence. “I want to feel your skin.”

She kissed the end of his nose, then kissed her way down his jaw to his throat. “For that, all you need to do is lower the bell.”

_Ziiiiiiiip_


End file.
